A Recipe For Disaster
by Princess Sammi
Summary: When Davina accidentally breaks all of Constance's potions, she has to make some more ...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: *waves* The Princess is in the building and is currently plotting how to steal Paris Hilton's pink throne – tis gorgeous! :D **

**Up for a mission BMF? ;)**

**I have no idea where this is going. In fact I only came up with it earlier this afternoon after a kitchen disaster. :D but meh … anyone who knows moi know its: act now, think/plan later :)**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own Worst Witch :( **

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**A Recipe For Disaster **

**Chapter 1  
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It was almost midnight at Cackle's Academy for Witches and there wasn't a sound to be heard. Davina Bat the, slightly crazy, chanting teacher had been in the Great Hall concocting some new chants for the school assembly's, and also some new cheers. In fact she had even taken up knitting to make some new pom poms after the others had mysteriously gone 'missing'; she was sure Constance Hardbroom had something to do with it, but she would never share that thought aloud or her life wouldn't be worth living.

The clock on the wall chimed as midnight struck and Davina decided she better make her way to bed so she was full of energy for the school day ahead. She gathered up all her papers marked 'top secret' (she thought she had some pretty good material in there and she didn't want anybody stealing it and passing it off as their own), picked up her candle and left the Great Hall , heading in the direction of the staff room to get to her cupboard so she could retire to bed and if she was really lucky she might have her Egbert Hellibore dream again, oooh Egbert Hellibore and his staff ….

Lost in her fantasy she ended up walking in the opposite direction to her intended destination and found her self outside the potions laboratory.

Though she had majored in Chanting, she had always thought she would be good at potions, mixing all the different ingredients together; it was a bit like cooking and if she had inherited anything from her great grandmother then it was her culinary skills.

_Well,_ she thought, _Constance isn't around and if I asked her then I know she would say not a chance and that Mildred Hubble would successfully fly a broomstick before she would let me in her potions laboratory, so its now or never and besides she's never going to know … _

She looked around furtively, almost as if she knew what she was doing was wrong, and, like going into a forbidden room she grasped the handle, turned it and slowly entered for fear of some nasty surprise lurking at the other side of the door. The room was immaculately tidy, as she had expected it to be; all potions on the shelf were alphabetized within their alphabetized categories of usage, and even in size order amongst that – it was certainly a very meticulous system Constance had in place.

She placed her papers on the desk and went over to the cabinet for a closer look. In the middle of one of the rows, was a bottle she was instantly attracted to – its label was slightly torn and almost completely faded- but there was some gravitational force almost pulling her towards it, she squinted her eyes in the dim candle light to try and read what it said.

After about ten minutes of debating with herself over various possibilities, She decided it said love, or it could equally have been lone, or something completely different, but she was going for the love option. Even at the risk of incurring the wrath of Constance for stealing one of her potions, the idea of the Chief Wizard falling for her seemed so worth it. It was like holding a precious jewel in her hand. She went to place the bottle of pink liquid in her tattered handbag, when a gust of wind blew and due to the windows being glassless her messy pile of papers were blown from the desk and scattered across the floor, she bent down to pick them up, when a sudden thunderous roar tore through the skies frightening her so much, she took a step back and accidently banged into the cabinet, the shelves suddenly gave way and almost as if in slow motion she watched in horror as each and every bottle hit the floor with a sickening crash, liquid oozed everywhere as potions ran together creating mesmerising patterns and colours. The potions laboratory was under a silencer spell so, although it was highly unlikely, she prayed that no one had heard the racket.

Another crash of thunder brought her back to reality with a bump and as she looked around and surveyed the mess, she let out a small whimper, Constance was going to kill her, there no doubt about it! , _unless _… she thought _I can make some more potions and replace them, she'll never know the difference and after all how hard can it be?_

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**A/N: Thanks for reading. **

**I'll update with the next chapter, well as soon as I've written it hehe , though I haven't forgotten about Perfection – I've just had total writers block since about June. **

***MUWAH* **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay so here is the next chapter **

**Firstly – I have no idea where this is going. But I plan to bring the other characters in, in the next chapter. **

**Secondly – I have no idea if pouring ink in a potion changes the colour (it does in my story though) , I missed that lesson, I had an appointment at the hairdres- I mean the er dentist *whistles innocently* **

**Thirdly – um .. enjoy **

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**Chapter 2 **

If you had looked into the Potions Laboratory at two o'clock that morning, you would have seen a woman dressed in black, standing over a cauldron furiously brewing away. There was nothing unusual about this scene, except for one thing; instead of First Class Potioneer Constance Hardbroom, it was Davina Bat – the slightly over zealous chanting teacher who stood. She was Bat by name and batty by nature.

She felt her heavy eyelids about to close and forced herself to snap them open: much as she wanted to she couldn't sleep now – she had to focus. Due to a … minor mishap she had successfully broken nearly every single potion that, up until about two hours ago, had once stood proudly on the cabinet. Except of course for the "love" potion, which was now nestled in her handbag and wrapped in a silk handkerchief for the, almost ironic, fear it should break.

Constance-the ever organised- Hardbroom had a folder in the laboratory which contained ever single potion from the shelf and an extremely detailed process for the brewing of said potions, but even with that Davina was finding herself way out of her depth – as the saying went: she was up the creek without a paddle. As her time was rapidly running out she had abandoned the measuring system and was now just going on her own eye's judgement which was working out rather well for her, or so she thought

She looked back to consult the next step: the potion should now have turned a dark shade of blue. She looked from the book back to the cauldron: her potion was a very strong shade of white.

"Oh fiddlesticks" she squeaked.

There was no time for her to start again as she had two hours until Constance would rise and she still had over halfway to go, she would have to improvise. _something to make it blue_ she thought. Her eyes scanned the room hopeful, that such a thing would magically appear but luck was not on her side; the events earlier in the evening had proved that much. On the desk were scattered papers, various potion ingredients and a pot of blue ink. Her eyes rested on the ink pot. _That might just work. It's worth a try at least_. _It's either this_ - she held the pot up in the candlelight - _ or I go and get Constance right now, confess what happened and risk spending my remaining years as a flea. _The thought of that caused her to shudder, she picked up the pot, unscrewed the lid and poured the runny ink into the cauldron holding her breath all the while, as the blueness of the ink met with the white of the potion it began to darken almost instantly. She breathed a sigh of relief, stirred it a few times to make it look more 'authentic' then poured it into the new glass bottle that was waiting. She was very grateful that she had taken up making music using glass earlier that year ( after she was saw something called Miss Congeniality), and Constance had told her all that glass would be of no use pfft shows how much she knows! She finished pouring the dregs into the bottle, and labelled them – a quick spell manipulated her writing making it on the surface appear to look like Constance's.

Holding up the bottle she admired her handiwork '_looking good Davina, you can barely tell the difference between this and the real thing'. _Going over to the shelf she delicately placed the jar on the shelf with the others.

Sometime later she was close to finished. She was exhausted: her eyes were so heavy and tired; her head was pounding from working so hard and in such dim candlelight, and mixed in with the constant racing of her heart pounding in fear for being caught.

'_One potion left to go' come on Davina, just focus for just a little while lo__**- **_her chain of thought broke off as she yawned sleepily – _longer'._ Turning the page of the folder she blinked a few times to clear her vision before reading the title at the top of one she had actually made before, and made well – the 'Sleeping Potion'. She scanned the page; it seemed straightforward enough – add some herbs, 2 handfuls of spiders eggs, lizards tongue, eye of newt … she carried on reading the list under her breath turning the page she continued add three tree leaves _hmm¸_ she thought¸_ that seems odd, I don't ever remember having to add tree leaves to that one oh well'¸_picking up the leaves she hesitated briefly before throwing them in the cauldron and giving the potion a gentle stir. Suddenly a noise startled her and she froze to the spot '_Don't be Constance, don't be Constance, please don't be Constance'_ the noise of padding feet came closer and a scrapping of what sounded like claws could be heard. Cautiously she approached the door, armed with the ladle – just in case there was an intruder. She opened the door to reveal a black cat brushing up against the door. 'Tiddles' she murmured, what are you doing out here? Tiddles didn't answer, instead choosing to purr.

'I'm nearly finished then we can both go to sleep'. Pouring the contents of the cauldron into the one remaining bottle, she screwed the lid on and placed it on the shelf. In among having to make all the potions, she had also had to try to work out Constance's complicated system for them. 'Sleeping' – oh no wait, that goes after the 'Shrinking' potion, she carefully reshuffled the two bottles.

'There finished!' She stood back and admired the new fully stocked cabinet –'it looks exactly the same as it did before, actually I think it looks better. Hastily tidying the papers back into order she put them back in Constance's desk drawer, gave the desk a quick sweep with her hand and picked up her bag along with the nearly extinguished candle. Standing at the door she took one last look around – checking that there was no evidence of anyone being there. As she closed the door behind her she just prayed that everything would be alright.


End file.
